A Day At School
by Priestess of the Myrmidon
Summary: Oneshot. Our beloved knights are in our time. With Galahad and Gawain trying to sing, Lancelot harassing their pretty teacher, and other such disasters, what on earth is going to happen!


Title: A Day At School

Rating: K+

Summary: One shot. Our beloved knights are in our time. With Galahad and Gawain trying to sing, Lancelot harassing their pretty teacher, and other such disasters, what on earth is going to happen!

Genre: Humor/General

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody except poor Mrs. Sheild… and the plot… if there is one.

A/N: I'm feeling quite productive at the moment, even if it is extremely late...

* * *

It was a normal day like any other. Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad and Arthur were waiting for the bus to come at their bus stop. 

Of course, such energetic boys standing next to each other was a recipe for disaster, and by the time the bus had _finally _arrived, Galahad, Gawain and Lancelot were, in varying degrees, covered in mud with their books all over the ground. Arthur looked a bit panicked, Lancelot annoyed, and Galahad and Gawain victorious. With acid looks being shot at each other, they got on the school bus.

Lancelot and Arthur sat next to each other, Gawain and Galahad on the seat to the left of the pair.

Two more benches were always unofficially reserved for their three other friends; Tristran, Bors and Dagonet.

Gawain and Galahad exchanged glances, and then opened their mouths, and unanimously began to sing: "Oh… I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes… I know-mgmph!"

Lancelot and Arthur had pounced on the two boys and covered their mouths. Poor Galahad's mouth was covered by Lancelot's hand, and he was near the point of suffocating. When Lancelot's victim was turning an unhealthy shade of blue, Gawain pointed out quite brilliantly: "Errr… Lancelot? You're suffocating my little brother."

"What? Oh. Yeah." Galahad gasped for air while giving Lancelot a wounded look.

"Do that again, and I'm mess up your pretty hair. Then Shannon won't make out with you in the fourth staircase."

"You wouldn't dare!" Lancelot snapped, hand flying to the threatened locks.

"I would and more. Especially for that stunt." The bus stopped, and by then, the bus driver was wearing a look of pure, abject fear and resignation at the horror that was to come.

Bors, Dagonet and Tristran boarded the bus, along with a few other children, and they all exchanged mischievous looks, with the exclusion of Tristran. The bus driver heaved a sigh.

"Alright, it's attendance time," sighed Nancy Sheild, teacher of the tenth graders. She was twenty-five, pretty, just out of college, and hated her job. Especially because Arthur, Lancelot, Bors, Dagonet, Tristran, Galahad, Gawain, Vanora, and Guinevere were in the same class. Why on earth the school would do that was beyond her. And luckily for her, this was the _second _time she had to teach that class.

She deftly caught the paper airplane that was being thrown across the room by Bors and Gawain, crumpled it up, tossing it behind her into the recycling bin without looking (having practiced the act more than a hundred times), and said sharply, "Lancelot, stop harassing Guinevere. I think she's told you more than a million times that she does _not _like you! And Bors! Now is not the time to engage in kissing with Vanora! Come on, everybody. Now! Get in your seat. Yes, that means _you,_ DuLac! Get in your seat _right now!_" She began attendance.

"Arthur."

"Present."

"Gawain."

"Absent."

"Not funny, young man!" she snapped, rubbing her forehead. It was going to be a long day. Evidently the boys had even more energy than they usually had, and combined, that was more that a million energizer bunnies. "Guinevere."

"Here."

"Tristran."

"Eh."

She rolled her eyes. "Dagonet."

"Here!" piped up Lancelot. She glared at him, and he smiled innocently at her.

"Galahad."

"Crazy half-naked blue people have abducted and chopped me up."

She sent him a withering glance.

"Bors."

"You're looking at 'im."

"Vanora."

"'Ere."

She continued on with the list, and when she was finished, she glanced up and saw Lancelot's grinning face while he waved his hand enthusiastically in her face.

"What?" she demanded, turning away from him to walk back to her desk.

"Nancy?" asked Lancelot, with a charming grin.

His teacher's eyes narrowed in annoyance until they were but slits, and she whirled around. "How many times, Lancelot DuLac, am I going to have to ask you _not _call me by my first name?" she snapped, brandishing the clip board. It came dangerously close to his face. He winced.

Lancelot asked innocently, "Why are you asking _me_? After all, it is coming from your mouth." He continued when she opened to her mouth to reply. He winked at her, filling the action with promise. "You have a _gorgeous_, sensual mouth, Nancy," he drawled, anxious to see if he could beat Bors' record of earliest detention. He had only fifteen seconds. He glanced worriedly at the clock, and then back to his purpling teacher. Lancelot needn't have worried. That was finally the last straw for her.

"That's a detention for you, Lancelot! I expect to see you in my room after the last bell rings!" she snarled angrily, slamming down the attendance book. The boy leaned back with a satisfied smirk sending a particularly victorious one to Bors who replied with a disgruntled and rude gesture that was entirely inappropriate for school.

"You still haven't answered my question, Ms. Sheild," he decided he'd pushed her enough... on the name issue, at least.

"_What_?" she ground out.

"Why didn't you call my name? You've mortally wounded me. May I have a kiss to make the boo-boo go away?" he asked, clutching his chest dramatically. The class snickered.

"You'll get over it," said Ms. Sheild, pointedly ignoring his last question. Now, if Lancelot's parents hadn't been one of the wealthiest people in the state and biggest contributors to the school, (second to only Arthur's parents) she would have had him expelled many, many months ago. But alas, that would not be.

"Why?"

"Because it's hardly possible to miss your presence, DuLac. And _no_, that is _not_ a good thing. Now, open your history books to page 103…"

By lunch time she had accumulated four paper airplanes, and seven spit balls- all courtesy of the boys. She had also given out four detentions… all to those boys.

When the bell rang for lunch, all of the teenagers scurried from the classroom to the lunch room, eager to eat.

"I'm…. too sexy for my shirt… too sexy for my shirt-" chirped Lancelot as he dug through his pockets for his lunch money.

"Ahhh! My ears! I'm scarred for life, now!" cried Gawain, shielding his ears.

"I second that," said Galahad, wincing as Lancelot continued. "Damn it, stop that!"

"Why ever would I do that?"

Lunch went relatively peacefully, with the exception of the food fight that Bors had started. He'd gotten a detention. Not to be outdone, Lancelot flicked mashed potatoes at his principal when her back was turned, resulting in laughter by all. Even the teachers had to fight back grins at the young man's antics.

When the last bell rang, Ms. Sheild heaved a sigh of relief. She needed a massage. And Advil—lots of it. Not to mention a new job. When Lancelot hovered near by for his detention, she waved him off, and skipped out of the room. What a day. And there were about a hundred and twenty-four left. It was going to be a long rest of the year.

* * *

Well? My imagionation sort of ran off tonight because I couldn't sleep. I apologise for that. But it was fun to write... 

Priestess


End file.
